


Odd Jobs

by MissMorland



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Disgusting OTP sex, F/M, Grinding, Humanstuck, Oral Sex, Porn, Porn with some plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-06-04
Packaged: 2018-04-02 22:14:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4075726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMorland/pseuds/MissMorland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tavros really needs a summer handyman job. Vriska really needs to get laid. Fortunately, they can help each other out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. they meet and tavros is hot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tumblr user ruf1ohn1tram](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Tumblr+user+ruf1ohn1tram).



> this is dedicated to tumblr user ruf1ohn1tram for fueling my disgusting otp love
> 
> and also for getting me into the ship in the first place how dare you

"Dammit!"  
  
Vriska huffed and dropped the wrench, glaring in defeat at her maddeningly broken kitchen sink. Who was she even kidding? She didn't know how to fix plumbing. Or much of anything. Vriska was more in the business of breaking things.  
  
But her sink clearly needed fixing. She'd have to pay someone to do it. Not that that would be an issue. Vriska was a monster in the stock market; she'd paved her way to retiring at 35 years ago. _Only seven more years to go,_ she reminded herself wryly.  
  
She was about to go get the phone book and hunt for a plumber when she passed the fridge and a slip of paper fluttered out from under a magnet. She bent to pick it up, and saw it was the note Rufioh had scribbled a few weeks ago. _Tavros--_ with a phone number under it.  
  
What was that for again? Oh, right. Rufioh's kid brother was looking for odd jobs over the summer. He'd given her the number in case she needed any help. Vriska didn't fancy herself the damsel in distress type, but she couldn't deny that her skill set in home matters was fairly limited. She wondered if Tavros did plumbing.  
  
Only one way to find out, she thought, and dialed the number.  
  
The phone rang a few times before a voice answered, "Hello?" He seemed surprised that someone would be calling.  
  
"Hi, is this Tavros?" Vriska asked, leaning against her cluttered counter. "I'm a friend of Rufioh's, he said you were looking for work."  
  
"Oh--yeah, yeah!" he exclaimed, suddenly sounding far more invested in the conversation. "Yes, employment is definitely something I'm, um, actively seeking. Well, not so actively, I guess, since I'm just having my number given out, but I'm still--"  
  
Vriska cut him off. She hated other people rambling. "Do you do plumbing? My sink is fucked up."  
  
He fumbled for a response. "Yes, definitely, I can help with that. Do you, I mean, know what's wrong with it?"  
  
"Can you just come over?" Vriska said, frustrated. "I really need this damn sink working." She gave him her address.  
  
"Um, yeah, I can be there pretty soon, I mean, depending on where you live, compared to where I am now..."  
  
She heard voices in the background shouting all of a sudden. "What's going on?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.  
  
"Oh, um, well, I'm at my friend Aradia's, and we're, well, playing a card game, and I guess Karkat just got owned--"  
  
"When can you be here?" she said, cutting him off again.  
  
He paused before responding, the chatter in the background fading somewhat. "Ten minutes?"  
  
"Five."  
  
"Okay, five."

* * *

 

The doorbell rang a few minutes later. Vriska set down the bottle of nail polish she'd been painting her fingernails with, and went to open the door. "You're..."  
  
Standing on her front porch was the most well-built man she'd ever seen. He was tall, Latino and toned, in a tank top and shorts, with arms that looked like they could sweep her off her feet without much effort. His face was tanned and chiseled, with round brown eyes like his brother's, and black hair cropped short on the sides.  
  
"...Late," she finished, trying to pretend like her panties hadn't just been soaked.  
  
"Sorry," he said sheepishly. Over his shoulder was a black cloth bag, presumably filled with tools. He shifted his weight to his left foot, popping his hip out a bit, and Vriska tried not to show outwardly how hot that was.  
  
"Well, come on in," she said finally, and stepped back to let him through. He walked inside, heeding her directions--"It's straight down the hall"--and giving Vriska a great view of his ass. Goddamn, was he built. She followed him down the hall to her kitchen, noticing his broad shoulders as well.  
  
Tavros set his tools down gingerly on her counter, and located the sink. "This one?"  
  
"Only kitchen sink here," she said, rolling her eyes and passing him to get to it. She bent down, careful to keep her ass high as she opened the cabinet doors. "It's something wrong with the pipes under here, I think. They made a weird gurgling sound this morning and since then it hasn't worked." She straightened up, noticing with satisfaction that he took a second to refocus on her face and process what she'd said. She tugged at her tiny shorts primly.  
  
"Um, okay," he said, pulling a flashlight and a wrench out of his tool bag. "I'll take a look at it."  
  
Tavros lowered himself under the sink, and Vriska hopped up on the counter and crossed one leg over the other, resuming painting her nails. He couldn't see her from under the sink, so she took the opportunity to rake her gaze down his body, taking note of the sizable bulge in his pants.  
  
It was embarrassing for her to admit, but she'd had a bit of a dry spell recently. And by recently, she meant for the past two years or so. It had been a while since she'd really gotten any action. But looking down at the young man beneath her feet, she had a stronger desire than before to cut that short.  
  
She tried to pretend she wasn't thinking about what was in those shorts when he stuck his head out again a while later, reaching into his tool bag again. "I know what the problem is, that's messing up the sink," he said. "It'll only take me a few minutes to fix it." What a shame, she thought, watching the way his arms flexed when he lowered himself below the pipes again. She wouldn't mind having those arms pin her down in bed.  
  
After a few more minutes, he reappeared, and twisted the tap. The sink worked perfectly, better than before. "There," he said, smiling. "That should do it."  
  
_WE should do it_ , Vriska thought before she could stop herself. She forced a normal-looking smile. "Thanks a bunch," she said. She dug in her purse and pulled out his payment, which he gratefully accepted.  
  
They stood awkwardly for a moment, Tavros shuffling his feet and Vriska thinking of all the sinful things she'd like to do to him, he said "Well, I should...probably go..."  
  
"If you must," she grinned. Tavros smiled back awkwardly and headed for the door. Vriska followed close behind, glancing at his ass the whole way down the hall. He opened the door and stepped outside.  
  
"Well, it was nice to, um, meet you," he said. Vriska pretended she didn't see the way his gaze dropped to her magnificently tight blue tank top for a moment. "Thanks for the call."  
  
"You as well," she smirked. "And no problem." He smiled and half-waved before walking to his truck.  
  
God, she had to break her shit more often.


	2. some fucking happens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> basically just that

Vriska did end up breaking shit more often.  
  
Her air conditioning got stuck at full blast. Her windows got jammed, or the screens got bent or torn. Her barstool seats were wobbly. And her kitchen sink stopped working at least three more times.  
  
Each time Tavros came by, always without complaint despite the frequency of her calls, she was careful to dress in something similar to the weather: hot and sweat-inducing. All her tightest shorts came out, and her lowest-cut tops, accentuating her ass and her B-cups (much to her chagrin, her chest hadn't grown since the seventh grade). Nonetheless, she took what she had and flaunted it. And she took every opportunity she had to touch him; a hand on the shoulder here, a light brush of her hand there. Tavros was never resistant, but always seemed slightly surprised.  
  
Vriska knew she wasn't being subtle at all. But then, she'd never been one for subtlety.  
  
One particularly hot day, Tavros was due to come over to re-paint her shutters, which hadn't even begun to fade. He arrived promptly at 1 pm with a ladder and paint roller and started to work.  
  
Vriska stepped outside a few minutes after bringing him the paint, clad in her most stunning cerulean bikini, holding a magazine and a cold glass of iced tea.  
  
"Mind if I join you outside?" she called flirtily.  
  
Tavros nearly fell off his ladder when he saw her, glossy black hair tumbling in perfect curls over one shoulder, her head cocked slightly. "U-um sure, I mean, I don't really have a problem with, um, you being here, I mean, it's okay with me if you--"  
  
"Great!" she interrupted, walking to the beach chair on her patio. "I thought I'd tan a bit, it's so beautiful and sunny today."  
  
"Uh-huh," he said, trying to tear his eyes from her body. She hid a smirk. Just like she'd planned.  
  
With some difficulty, Tavros went back to painting. Vriska pretended to read her magazine while she watched him work, the way the muscles in his back flexed when he reached up for one of the shutters. God, he was so strong. She could almost feel those muscles under her hands...  
  
She could see the sweat beading on his skin, and she smirked. She could make him sweat like that. But Jesus, hopefully it didn't have a thing to do with this oppressive heat. Vriska could feel sweat pooling on her chair, even in her bikini. How Tavros was surviving in his shorts and tank, she couldn't fathom.  
  
But he was clearly feeling the pain too, because he suddenly reached down and began to peel his top off. Vriska watched, rapt, as he exposed his back and shoulders completely. She pushed her glasses up a bit higher on her nose and gazed at him fully. His skin was gorgeously tanned, taut over his muscles. As if he could feel her watching, Tavros turned and smiled at her sheepishly.  
  
"Hot out, isn't it?"  
  
"Mm-hm," Vriska said vacantly, the side of her thumb between her teeth. "Sure is."  
  
When the last shutter was painted, and Vriska's bathing suit bottoms were uncomfortably wet, Tavros climbed back down the ladder, triceps flexing as the sweat slipped down his back. Vriska rose from her chair, discarding her untouched magazine on the ground.  
  
"All finished," he said. She nodded, more focused on his chest than his words. He shifted, but not necessarily with discomfort.  
  
Vriska looked up suddenly, and met his eyes. Brown irises met blue, and suddenly it became very, very clear that all interest was mutual.  
  
"I should, um, go, probably," he said.  
  
"No!" she exclaimed, reaching out to grab his arm. He looked at her, slightly surprised.  
  
"Don't you want to come in and cool off?" she said silkily. "It's so hot and sticky out..."  
  
He hesitated for half a second. "Um, sure."  
  
Smiling, Vriska led him into the house. She kicked off her flip-flops, and, taking the cue, he unlaced his work boots and peeled off his socks.  
  
She turned around suddenly. "Do you want to just take a shower? You're all sticky."  
  
Tavros' face turned beet-red. "Well, I mean, that is, I wouldn't won't to, uh, impose, or anything..."  
  
"Nonsense," she smiled, stepping closer. "It's no trouble."  
  
Stuttering and stumbling, he let her take his hand and lead him up the stairs, and through her bedroom, where she suddenly whirled to face him.  
  
"Actually, let's just skip to the part where you're naked."  
  
He had barely a moment to reply before her lips were on his, and he was kissing back frantically, fumbling to hold her waist and draw her closer. She dragged her hands down his back, grinding her hips against his as she kissed him deeper and tasted the moans on his tongue.  
  
Vriska pushed him backward until he was against the wall, kissing him breathlessly. She trailed her lips down his neck, making him suck in a breath, and let out a moan when she bit him. His eyes fluttered shut as she sucked on the spot, sliding her hand down to palm him through his pants for good measure.  
  
"F-fuck," Tavros breathed, his hips pressing against her hand.  
  
Vriska smirked into his collarbone. "I don't think I've ever heard you swear before," she said, squeezing her fingers around his package. He was already hard, and shit, it seemed like her size estimates had been correct.  
  
He let out a shaky breath. "I don't do it m-much," he replied.  
  
"Glad to know I can bring that out in you."  
  
Vriska kissed down his neck again, tracing a path down his chest. She could taste the salt of his sweat, a combination of the heat and her body pressed against his. He let out another shivering breath as her lips reached the top of his shorts, but as she began to slip her fingers under the button, he said, "Wait."  
  
Vriska looked up at him quizzically, her mouth inches from the bulge in his pants. "Huh?"  
  
Tavros looked nervous. "...You first."  
  
Oh.  
  
Vriska wasn't about to argue with that. She scrambled back to her feet, and he bent to kiss her feverishly. She kissed back, and his hands traced down her hair and back to squeeze her ass. She sighed against his lips, grinding on his hard-on as he guided her backwards toward her bed. When her knees hit the mattress, he lowered her gently onto the sheets.  
  
She grinned up at him. "Don't you want me a little more naked than this?"  
  
"Oh, um, sure, I guess," he said, nervously shifting his weight. She reached back and untied the strings on her bikini top, letting it fall to the floor. Tavros stood blinking, his jaw about to hit the floor as he stared in awe at her breasts. She smirked at him, and he jumped a bit when he realized he'd been ogling her.  
  
"Um, can I..."  
  
"Please."  
  
Tavros returned to kissing her, but left her lips after a brief while to press them to her neck. All the while, he nervously groped her breasts, his fingers pressing against the delicate skin. Her half-bitten-back moans encouraged him, leading him to kiss down further, over one of her breasts, and press his lips to her nipple. She let out a small "nn" sound, and grinned a bit as she felt him grow harder against her leg.  
  
Following the same path she'd taken earlier, Tavros pressed kisses down her midsection to the top of her bikini bottoms. She sighed with pleasure, and shimmied helpfully out of her swimsuit when he tugged on it.  
  
Once Vriska was fully disrobed, he hesitated only for the briefest of moments before dragging his tongue up along her pussy. She gasped, although not entirely out of pleasure, and said, "A little gentler there."  
  
Tavros did as he was told, dragging his tongue flat along the length of her vulva. She sighed a bit, her body relaxing as he repeated the motion, his arms moving to circle her thighs. He gripped them tightly, pressing his fingers into her soft skin. Sheets crumpled as Vriska dug her fingers in slightly. "Up a bit, baby. Just a little higher."  
  
Tavros did as he was told, and she shivered as his tongue made contact with her clit. "Fuuuuuuuuck...god yes, right there," she murmured, biting her lip. Her glasses were askew. Her hips rose a bit to meet his mouth, which worked steadily in a way he was just figuring out. Vriska gave him direction, telling him where and when to put his tongue. His up-and-down motion seemed to be working fairly well, as her breath shortened and her moans became more sporadic. She wound her hand into his hair, letting out a "Ngh...fuck, yes" when he slipped a finger inside her, and repeating the same thing louder when he crooked it exactly the right way.  
  
Tavros flicked his tongue in small motions across her clit, his fingers making a come-hither gesture inside of her. With every ragged breath she seemed closer to coming undone, her eyes squeezed shut and her thighs tense. All it took was one final flick of his fingers right in the right spot before she was spilling over the edge, his name on her lips and her hands in his hair and his tongue on her junk.  
  
Tavros extricated himself delicately from between her legs, watching with satisfaction (and mild surprise) as she lay there panting, one arm thrown across her face as her chest rose and fell with each breath. It took her a moment to compose herself, but after a minute, she propped herself up on her elbows, grinning. "Nice job. I didn't quite know what to expect." He smiled, averting his gaze.  
  
"You next, Tav," she smirked. His eyes widened. Before Vriska could even slip out of bed, though, they both heard Tavros' phone buzz in his pocket. They looked at each other a moment, and then he fumbled to pull it out and answer it, trying to sound like he hadn't just had his mouth full of his employer's junk. "Hello?"  
  
He listened for a moment. Tried and failed to get a word in edgewise. Finally, he sighed and said "Okay, bye," and hung up.  
  
Vriska raised her eyebrows. "Who was that?"  
  
Tavros looked at her a moment before answering, as if teetering on lying to her. "My mom," he finally said. Definitely not a lie. What's more embarrassing than that that he'd want to cover up? "She wants me home."  
  
"Ughhhhhhhh." Vriska groaned and flopped back onto the sheets. "Now?"  
  
"Now," he confirmed. He watched uneasily, uncertain if she'd be upset.  
  
"Can you get out of it?"  
  
"Um, no. My mom is..." He trailed off, leaving her to fill in the blank.  
  
Finally, Vriska sighed and waved her hand dismissively. "Okay, fine." She reached for a t-shirt that was on the ground, pulling it on. "But..." She grinned devilishly at him. "To make up for this, you're going first next time."  
  
Tavros wasn't sure he'd heard right. "Next time?"  
  
"Next time," she confirmed, smiling. She grabbed a hair tie from the dresser and pulled her locks into a ponytail. "Come on, I'll walk you downstairs."  
  
As they left the bedroom, Vriska touched a finger to a spot on his neck. "Look what I left you," she said. Tavros turned and glanced in the hall mirror, turning bright red when he saw the hickey on his skin.  
  
"My mom is going to kill me."  
  
"Say it was...I don't know, some freak painting accident."  
  
"Yeah...okay."  
  
At the front door, Tavros fumbled with his socks and shoes and shirt, managing to get everything on in an orderly fashion. As he stepped out the door and waved goodbye to her from the street, and watched her waving back in an oversized t-shirt and crooked glasses and ponytailed hair, he couldn't help thinking that she really was beautiful.  
  
And bammin' slammin' bootylicious, too.


End file.
